All Your Faults
by Mj Poe
Summary: Canada is tired of everyone forgetting about him. So he does something about it. Fail Summary please just read! rated M for subject and Lang.
1. All your Faults

"Why doesn't anyone remember who I am?"

"Who are you?" Asked a white polar bear looking up from its food.

A sigh escaped his lips

"I'm Canada, You're owner... The one who feeds you..."

"...Who?"

With another sigh Canada buried his face into his arms. The timer on the over went off but he didn't move.

'Why should I? Let the cake burn.' He thought bitterly. Once again it was his birthday and everyone forgot him for his younger brother America. Even france didn't remember! His violet coloured eyes began to burn from hot salty tears. He tried to wipe them with the back of his hands but it didn't help. They just kept running down his face. Why? Why doesn't anybody remember him? He didn't want much, just someone anyone to remember him just every now and again. Was that to much to ask for? Vision blurred by tears, he stood, walking past Kumakichi ,or was it kumiharu, to the kitchen and turned off the oven before the smoke detecter went off.

As he pulled the now burnt cake out the oven somthing caught his eye. A knife gleamed in the sunlight and looked so inviting. He picked it up gingerly and stared at it.

'Maybe I should just end it. Nobody would even notice if i was dead anyway.'

Tears dried up instantly at the morbid thought. The threw the knife down as if it had shocked him.

"No! I can't do that! I've got to much to live for. I've got..." He frowned. He tried to think of somthing.

'Well theres always Kumikuchi I suppose, someone needs to feed him."

He jumped at the sound of his doorbell ringing. His spirit lifted. Someone rememeber his birthday!

He quickly wiped off his face and went to answer the door.

"Bonjo-" He started to greet who ever it was as a cream pie collided with his face.

"Hahaha! I so totally got you bro! Don't forget about my birthday in 3 days dude!" America yelled as he went running back to his car with that same goofy grin of his. As he sped away, not knowing how much he had just hurt his brothers feelings, Canada just quietly shut the door.

He walked into the kitchen and began washing off the cream, it had gotten into his hair, on his glasses even a little on his hoodie. He felt the tears dribble down his face again until there was a flood of them. That was it! This was the last straw! He grabbed the knife off the floor and headed to the bathroom, mind made up.

He shut the door and turned on the water in the tub. He climbed in clothes and all, what did it matter if his clothes got wet? He really didn't care anymore. He rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie and held the knife over his wrist. He wondered how much it would hurt.

"Not as much as the pain they've put me through" he whispered to himself. He sucked in a a deep breath as he dragged the knife up his arm. He only felt slight discomfort as the water began to be tinted red. He watched as the blood rolled down lazily,

"Its your fault, all of yours, not that anyone would even care" he whispered to himself again. He took the knife and made an identical cut on his other arm. Feeling slightly light headed he realised somthing, he forgot to leave a note. He giggled to his self at the ludacris thought. In the middle of killing ones self and you think of leaving a note as to why! He turned off the tub, the water was completely red now, and stood up a little woobly on his feet. but he just shook his head and headed for his study.

His feet felt like cement weights as he walked down the hall to his study and his vision kept threating give out give out on him. He used his right hand to keep him steady, leaving blood on the wall and the floor, his breathing becoming laboured.

"All...Most...There..."

He paused at the front door to catch his breath. His head was swimming as he noticed the floor was coming at his face. Pain jolted through his face as he slammed into the cool wood. He shivered against it. He wasn't going to make it. His blood was beginning to pool around him.

'I can just use my blood.'

Weakly he lifted his heavy arm and began to write out his little note. His arm flopped down heavly as he finshed. He smiled to no one in peticular. It was all going to be over soon.

"Hey Canada! Happy Birth- OH MEIN GOTT!"

"What? What is- Akh , pochemu tovarishch?"

Prussia and Russia stared in disbelief as they say thier friend on the floor covered and surrounded in blood and smiling.

'Oh wow, someone remembered, but I guess it's to late now.' One tear slid down his face as he closed his eyes and took his final breath.

Prussia rushed over to his pulling his head into his lap trying to get him to wake up.

"NEEEEEIN! YOU CAN'T DIE!"

"Prussia..."

Germanic curses filled the silence.

"He left a note..."

"Crimson eyes followed the crimson trail of his now dead friends blood to the small note.

"It's All Your Faults."


	2. The Call

Sorry this chapter is so short! I'm trying to figure out how I want to end this so please have patience with me. Thank you!

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><p>The Call<p>

Silence hung over them like a wet blanket, smothering, choking, almost impossible to breathe.

"Prussia…."

Russia was the first to speak. He spoke gently but firmly, knowing the other country didn't like him, but at this time not caring .Kneeling down he carefully placing a hand on the albino's shoulder, trying to wake him from this trance he was in.

"Prussia."

He tried again, but the other didn't respond, he remained on the floor next to his fallen friend staring at him almost as if the Canadian was going to open his eyes and yell "Gotcha!" like his brother would.

"Gilbert!"

The Russian didn't yell but it sounded like he had in the silence. The German finally acknowledge Russia and turned to look at him. The other couldn't read the crimson eyes looking up at him. So many emotions danced across the orbs like a blizzard in Siberia.

"Verdammtes arschloch… Do you not even care?" Growled the German rising to his feet. Russia didn't try to dodge the fist heading towards his face. Not like it would hurt him anyway.

"We need to call America, France and England as well, Da? They need to know what happened here." Slowly turning his head to face the German once again, a slight frown on his face. He pulled out his cell phone and began to walk back out the front door.

"Не все равно помнить, товарищ, You were not the only one who cared for him, Da?" with that his closed the door to make the call, leaving Prussia alone with the body of his friend.

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><p>Verdammtes arschloch- Fucking Asshole<p>

Не все равно помнить, товарищ- Do try to remember comrade


	3. What Happened?

Thank you guys for having sticking with this story! This is the first story I've written that wasn't a one- shot! I wasn't planning on countinuing with it, but thanks to Panda_Aru, we're now at chapter 3! This story is a little Difficult for me to write since I'm a normally happy person, and was having an off day when this story came to mind, but with the help on HetaOni music and memories I'm going to finish it :D

Also on a serious note, Suicide is not the answer. It never is, if you're having those thoughts please talk to someone, anyone ok? A teacher, parent, friend, a hotline, hell you can even email me on here! Ill talk to you. I know how much it hurts to lose a loved one to Suicide so please don't put you're family through it.

Thanks if you actually read all that :D anyway here's chapter 3

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><p>"You fuckers had better be pulling a sick prank! Where is he? Where is…"<p>

America had all but kicked down the door and began to start yelling, but then the body had caught his eye. It felt as if some invisible force had punched him in the gut. In the middle of the floor lay his twin, still covered in his own blood, which was beginning to congeal and turn into almost black goo like substance. His knees gave way under his weight; he fell to his knees punching the floor in the process.

Why? Why would Canada do this? He had just seen his brother, he was alive and kicking. Hell America hadn't even made it across the border before he had gotten the call. He wasn't going to answer, but something told him to pick up. Thinking it was some very, very, sick prank he almost hung up, but something in Russia's voice made him turn around and head back to his brother's house.

"We didn't think it would be right moving him. Not without your or France's permission. "

America lifted his head to find Russia standing by Prussia who had helped himself to some of Canada's beer. It seemed he was attempting to drink this away. America opened his mouth but closed it again. He didn't trust his voice not to crack. Hot, salty tears stung his eyes, blurring his vision. His head was swimming with thoughts and questions, mostly just the question why. Why? America opened his mouth again.

"We found him just as he was dying. It seems he started in the bathtub. But for some reason was heading for his study, I assume to leave a note, like the one he left here on the floor. We were too late. . Мне очень жаль, Америка."

"If we had only been five minutes early, or Hölle, just one minute, maybe… maybe…. We could have saved him. Ficken Verkehr!"

Prussia threw his empty can across the living room and buried his head into his hands. It just didn't fucking make sense! Canada never showed any signs of unhappiness! Sure they did tend to forget him a lot, but He and Russia always remembered him eventually! They even remembered his birthday was today! Yea, they were a little late but it's not something to kill yourself over, was it?

"Gott. Why would he kill his self on his birthday?"

"It was his birthday? Oh Jesus Christ… I- I- I didn't know it was his birthday… I never would have…"

"What did you do?"

The words came out as a growl as Prussia stood from the couch. He rushed over, roughly grabbed America by the collar and violently began to shake him.

"What the fuck did you do!"

"It was just a joke! I swear! How the hell was I supposed to know? It was just a cream pie!"

America didn't have time to block the punch, or the kick that followed.

You! You Hurensohn! Do you realize what the fuck you did you Mistvieh!"

Prussia punch the side of the American's head, had he not been in a fit of rage he would have gotten him smack dab in the middle of his temple. Stars filled his vision, and blackness hung around the corners. Prussia was about to kick him in the stomach again when a bright light filled the room and a strong wind almost knocked them over.

"What happened?"

"Où est-il?"

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><p>Btw I'm sorry if the guys are a little OOC!<p>

Мне очень жаль, Америка- I'm sorry America

Hölle- hell

Ficken Verkehr- fucking traffic

Hurensohn- son of a bitch

Mistvieh- bastard

Où est-il?- Where is he


	4. Please,пожалуйста Bitte S'il vous plaît

Woot! Chapter 4 is complete! I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story :D I hope I fixed some of the OOCness. Anyway Enjoy!

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><p>Three sets of eyes stared at the new comers as the light from England's magic began to fade. The Prussian released his grip on America, letting him fall to the floor in a heap. Russia abandoned his spot by the sofa and walked over to the foyer where England and France stood. However he and his companion could only stare in disbelief at the body of their "child" lying dead on the floor just in front of them. France stumbled back, shock and horror danced across his face, his vision began to grow dark, tears instantly streaming from his eyes. Blindly groping for something to hold on to, he snatched at England's sleeve, throwing him off balanced.<p>

Unaware of France, only staring at the horror in front of him, same question's running through his head. Same questions everyone had been asking their selves. He didn't stare at the ugly slashes going up the now pale arms, no it wasn't right; he always had a healthy glow about him, instead he stared at the golden hair, or what was left of it. The tips of his wavy hair had turned almost the colour of midnight. He looked past the pasty skin of the Canadian's face, hair now a coppery red, reminding him of his brothers, what an ugly colour, had become stuck together and almost crusty looking. Only the very top had been the same light dirty blonde, just a shade lighter than his twin.

England realized France had grabbed onto him to keep his self from falling. Had it been normal circumstances he would have made fun of the Frenchman, however now was not a time for joking. He gently took hold of his friend's elbow and helped him sit on the floor, back against the wall. Seeing the tears of sorrow, lost and shock pouring down France's face, it was only then when he noticed his own tears threatening to break through.

"Mon dieu."

"Does anyone know what happened? Why he would do something like this?"

It was all England could do to not break out into tears. Somebody had to be strong and reassuring. He could already tell Prussia had lost his cool. America was a wreak, and although he wasn't smiling or enjoying this, he knew Russia wasn't the most comforting person.

"Es ist so verdammt amerikanischen Schweine schuld! If he hadn't come here and thrown a pie in Can- Matthew's face then he would still be alive! I mean how the fucking hell do you do that to someone on his birthday! Gott!"

"C'était son anniversaire… Mon dieu. I forgot as well… What kind of Papa am I? Oh Matthieu, je suis désolé"

The Frenchman began to sob uncontrollable into his hands. It was as if something just took over his body, as gut wrenching cries of agony escaped his open mouth, his hands doing little to absorb the sounds. England kneeled down in front of him, hand on his shoulder, knowing there is nothing he could do to make the Frenchman feel better.

"France… Francis I forgot as well. I am just as much to blame as the Amer-Alfred."

He hoped using their human names would bring both of them out of their depression. He could see both were beginning to spiral out of control into the depths of hell that was guilt and sorrow. But it seemed nothing would work. France continued to sob uncontrollable into his hands, and America just stared at his twin's body, unable to read him.

"Are you fucking serious? His own Väter und Bruder completely forgot about Matthew's Geburtstag? Heilige Maria Mutter Gottes! I-"

"Gilbert! That is enough. Do not make matters worse, da. They are already feeling guilty. Только посмотрите на них."

Russia gestured to the blondes, and Prussia looked at each. They each looked as if their hearts had been ripped right from their chest, but he didn't care, it was their fault Canada was dead. They deserved to suffer! But the look in Ivan's eyes told him to bite his tongue, or else he was sure the Russian man would tear it out for him.

"England! Arthur! You! You can save him!"

America had suddenly snapped out of his despair. His baby blues held a fire that danced and burned. He looked half-crazed. England figured it was from shock of how Matthew had died. A look of pity made it's was across the British man's face, his green eyes soft. He had to bring him down gently.

"What are you talking about Alfred? I'm sorry, but you're brother…. Matthew's gone."

"Use your magic dude! That's how you got here so fast right? So you can totally be the hero and bring him back!"

W-what? B-"

"Actually I was just thinking that. Не могли бы вы товарищ? Is your magic as powerful as you say?"

"Warten Sie, kann er das tun? Can you bring Matthew back?"

"I- I d-don't know. I've never t-"

"S'il vous plaît Arthur. Please bring him back"

England looked around him. Russia still standing in the same spot by the sofa's arm, arm's cross, slight smile across his child-like face almost mocking him saying he couldn't. America's eyes alight looking at him like he did with the comic super hero's he knew Alfred looked up to, but in depths be on that the small child begging him to try, to bring back his brother. Prussia eye's no longer filled with anger, face no longer scowling, but an un-characteristic smile of hope. Finally field green eyes feel upon the sapphire blue pools of Francis. Tears still in his eyes, no smile, no happiness, just begging and pleading filled his eyes.

"I'll do it."

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><p>End chapter 4! Thank you everyone who reads this story! Please Review! I won't die but it's nice :) Also trying to Figure out if I'm going to do a happy ending or sad one. I guess ya'll will find out tomorrow night :D Thanks guys!<p>

Mon dieu- My god

Es ist so verdammt amerikanischen Schweine schuld- It's that fucking American pigs fault

Gott- God

C'était son anniversaire- It was his Birthday

Oh Matthieu, je suis désolé- Oh Matthew I'm sorry

Väter und Bruder- Fathers and Brother

Geburtstag- Birthday

Heilige Maria Mutter Gottes- Holy Mary Mother Of God

Только посмотрите на них.- Just look at them

Не могли бы вы товарищ- would you comrade

Warten Sie, kann er das tun- wait, he can do that?

S'il vous plaît- please


	5. Good, Bad Worse

Here ya go guys! Chapter 5! This was orignially going to be the ending, buuuuuut It didn't feel like the right time yet, so ya'll get one more chapter :D maybe two, I haven't decided yet ^_^ Enjoy!

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><p>"I'm going to have to go back to my house to do some research. I'll be back as soon as I can."<p>

"What do we do with Matthew's body until then?"

"Don't move him yet. Let me figure out what I need and then we'll decided okay?"

"Wait! Arthur I'm coming with. I can be you're sidekick for today, but just for today."

England had begun to teleport back to his house when America ran over to him. His tears were gone and replaced with that goofy grin he always had on his face. But England could see passed the mask the younger nation had placed upon his self. He saw the desperation in the endless blue eyes. It felt as if someone had driven an icepick through his heart before, now it felt as if someone was twisting it around and pulling it in and out. He looked at the others, the same look in various forms in each of their eyes. He didn't even know if this plan would even work! Yet they looked as if he could perform any type of miracle! In another time and place this would have boosted his ego as big as Alfred's, but right now it just made him want to run away and curl up in a ball and hide from them. He never said it would work, he only said he would try. Didn't this damn people know this difference? If Alfred hadn't opened his big mouth he wouldn't be in this situation!

"Alright, Hold on to arm okay? And don't be frightened."

"Why would I be frighte-"

Light consumed them, and the wind was their guide, leaving the other three to sit there with the body of their dear friend.

"Matthieu ... Mon doux Matthieu"

"Es wird alles gut. That British Mistvieh will fix it."

France looked away from the remains of Canada to his old friend. Eyebrow's cocked up in slight disbelief. Prussia's cocky grin would have looked the same as ever, if his eyes hadn't given him away. If France hadn't known him for so long, he would have missed the subtle changes in the light that made his friend's eye aglow.

"Tu mens."

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><p>"Hey England, what are we looking for again?"<p>

Alfred called out in the dark cellar. If England put some windows in here he could find the stupid… what was it again? He heard the frustrated sigh from the other nation.

"It's a book. It'll be really old so be careful with it. It has a leather cover, words written in Gaelic. It should say Filleadh ar an duine éagtha on it."

"Great… There's a ton of old books in here, all covered in dust!"

For emphasis he began coughing loudly, only to inhale a huge cloud of dust he had kicked up. Doubled over he tried to breathe normally. Almost being propelled backwards knocking over a stack of books three times his height. With the lack of oxygen in his lungs, he was un- able to cry out as the books began to rain around him. The darkness affecting his vision, un-able to see where the leather covered bombs were heading, until he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and the ground came to meet him.

England had been doing his hardest to ignore the American, knowing serious situations made him uneasy, and even more likely to joke around. He understood though, it was his defense mechanism. So when Alfred began coughing and choking he just tuned him out like always and continued to search for his lost book. He knew it was somewhere in the room, it was just a matter of finding it! It wasn't until hearing the loud slaps thumps and flutters of leather coming into contact with concrete, forcing the spines to open and reveal their hidden paper and inky treasures did Arthur even think to turn around.

"Alfred, what are y-"

Where he had last seen the mourning brother, there was now a crushing mountain of books, and his companion was nowhere to be seen.

"America? America? Alfred!"

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><p>"Я думаю, что-то не так"<p>

Russia hadn't raised his voice, but it sounded as if he had spoken through a megaphone.

"Huh?"

"I said I think something is wrong. They have been gone an awfully long time, da?"

"But it's only been like 10 minutes right?"

"Call it a feeling then, I'm going to go check-up on them."

"Wie?"

Russia had opened his mouth to reply to the confused albino, but France interjected.

"Ne pas oublier un ami, Ivan also possesses magical abilities like Angleterre."

With a simple smile, and nod, the light beams that had been washing the room in soft summer sunset hues started twirling and dancing around the Russian. It almost looked as if it was gently caressing his innocent looking face, playing with his light hair. Suddenly he vanished, the sunbeams returned to the original spots.

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><p>Russia ascended from the floor of England's cellar, unlike the soft light that had aided him in his leaving, a great gust of wind, that reminded him of father winter, greeted him, causing books, papers and dust to dance around him. In the middle of the room he found England holding a very ancient looking book tightly to his chest. Arm covering his eyes, it seemed he had interrupted him, because Ivan could see the silhouette of a person lying on his back just behind the British man.<p>

"что случилось?"

England looked up to see the Russian towering over him looking behind his back.

"I've got good news and bad news and worse news."

Violet eyes greeted Bright green in curiousity.

"Oh?"

England nodded grimly.

"We found the book. However, America was knocked unconscious by a falling book, and now I can't wake him. Not only that, but I can't move him magically if he's not awake. I don't want to leave him here, but…"

"I suppose this is the worse news, da?"

Again England nodded, the look never leaving him.

"According to the book we have to get some supplies, I have most of them here so it's not a problem; however, if we don't hurry back, and bring Canada back within the next ten minutes, we lose him for good."

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><p>Did you guys like this chapter? I hope so. Now i've put myself in a bind, I don't know how to write spells ^^;; So next chapter maaaay be a little late. I'm also working on my new story Berlin Wall, But ill try and keep updating every night :) Thanks guys! Please review! you have no idea how much those mean to me. It totally makes my day 3<p>

Matthieu ... Mon doux Matthieu- Matthew... My sweet Matthew

Es wird alles gut- It'll be okay

Mistveih- Bastard

Tu mens- you're lying

Filleadh ar an duine éagtha - Return the Deceased (I just thought of a random name sorry)

Wie- how

Ne pas oublier un ami- Don't forget friend

что случилось- What happened


	6. Author's Note

Hey readers! Just wanted to let ya'll know that my older sister is in town with my niece so I won't be updating All Your Faults for a couple days, hopefully this little break will also help get rid of my writers block as well Thank guys!


	7. Running out of time

Yay!Finally got to write the new chapter! I'm so sorry it took so long! Was busy with chasing a four year older around. Man she's quick! Anyway, I won't hold take up any more of your !

Oh btw! If I forgot to in the 1st chapter-

I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING!

Just making sure, its 5:35 in the am and i've been writting since 11pm. I hope you appreicate this :P 3

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><p>It seemed old age had not slowed him down. Russia watched as the English man ran to and fro, collecting things for the spell. It would have been amusing had it not been a race against time. He would move out of the way as the man came running past him, panting, skin slightly glistening in the candle light with a thin coat of sweat. On his face a look of determination that almost matched America's when he would get one of his crazy ideas.<p>

"So that's where he got it from."

"Sorry what's that?"

Ivan looked over to where his Ally was. He was bent over a chest, head never rising to look at the Russian man standing by his former colony.

"Nothing. I was merely talking to myself, da."

England only grunted, still rummaging through the chest, until he made discovered whatever it is he was looking for. Making some noise of triumph holding up a bottle of some weird glowing liquid, looking over at the Russian with a satisfied look on his face. However his face fell when his eyes fell on the American. Alfred was still out cold, and they had to figure something out now.

"We've only 8 minutes or less… Ivan is there any way you can take him? We have to resurrect Matthew before the sunsets completely over there. "

"нет. Like you I cannot unless he is awake."

The looked glumly at the man lying on the floor as a shiver ran down both of their spines. If he was covered in blood…. England shook his head fiercely, attempting to get the thought out of his head. Russia only shut his eyes briefly. He walked over to the other nation and lifted him up bridal style.

"Where are you going?"

"It would be rude to leave him here on the cold floor, da? I will move him upstairs where he will be more comfy."

"Alright, but hurry please! We're down to 7 minutes!"

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><p>The summer sunset engulfed the house in hues of pinks and reds making the white walls look as if they were drenched with blood. It seemed as if whatever Gods were up there were either against them, or were just very entertained with the Frenchman and Prussian's suffering. Patience was also beginning to run thin within the albino. The red hues also made the whites of his eyes a shade lighter than his iris along with his hair. Everything about the man was red from the light as well as the anger bubbling up inside him again. Prussian held his knees close to his chest. He felt weak, and dammit he hated feeling weak! It was too un-awesome for him! It wouldn't have been so bad if there was something he could do, but to sit here on the floor with France, who was staring off into space after his tears had all dried up, and with the body of his friend only a couple of feet from him, it just wasn't right! He bit back a growl that threating to escape his clenched teeth and buried his head into his arms, hoping to forget the world around him. As he shifted he heard the small package he had been keeping in his pocket fall onto the floor, the wrapping paper cushioning its fall. He lifted his head and stared at the tin, horribly wrapped and ironically red wrapping paper. It caught the fading light just right and it seemed to glare into his equally red eyes, directly into his soul. Why in the hell had he picked red wrapping paper? Oh yea, cause of Matthew, it was one of the colours on his flag. His rage could no longer be contained inside him. He snatched up the mocking gift and threw it as hard as he could at the wall in front of him.<p>

"Fuck you! You piece of shit!"

France jumped at the sound of the ex-nation's sudden scream. He watched as his friend threw something red at the wall as if both had insulted him. He could only sit there and watch as Prussia ran over to said wall and begin to punch it with all his strength, which was a lot. He watched as his fist went through the wall over and over again, screaming in German and watch as the tears slide down his face. It was almost as if watching a horror movie. As Prussia took his rage out on the offending wall, it looked as if he was crying blood.

Suddenly the light around them turned into an icy blue, and a chilling wind blew through the foyer, making the light swirl and take on the appearance of snow. The Prussian ceased his beating of the poor wall, which looked as if it was about to crumble at any time now, and shielded his eyes from the bright light. The Frenchman did the same, burying his head into his knees, arms wrapped around his self in attempt to keep the chilly wind away.

"Fuck! There isn't much time! Hurry Ivan! Help me with Matthew!"

Both France and Prussia looked up at the familiar sound of England's voice. He was already kneeling over the Canadian's body, lifting his arms as the Russian grabbed his feet. Confusion equally played across the old friend's faces as they watched Russia simply pick up Canada running past them, his normal smile no longer on his child-like face. They followed him, as he into the kitchen, out the French doors into Matthews brick patio where England was already there drawing something onto it with chalk. Around him were odd black bottles with labels written in a language neither of them knew.

"Place him in the center, quickly! We're running out of time! The sun is almost gone!"

"What happens when the sunsets?"

Both Prussia and France asked at the same time, both taking on the panicky tone their English friend had just voiced. He didn't look up nor answer as he began to grab the jars, and place the objects inside around Matthew's body.

"If the sunsets before England can finish the spell, we lose Matthew forever."

The Russian replied bluntly and gloomily. He turned his back away from the other two as they unconsciously began to shout sometime of cusses in their native tongue. Time was defiantly against them, he thought to his self as he watched as the first stars began to twinkle in the purple blotches of the sky. The tree line in front of him seem to bleed as he watch the red light fade away. He closed his eyes as he heard Arthur speaking in Gaelic as the red light turned into a ghastly green.

The first thing America noticed as he came out of the darkness was the pounding in his head and how it screamed at him as he sat up. Letting out a soft groan of pain he began to take in his surroundings. He was in England's living room, that much he knew, but how did he get here, and who the hell was whispering? Last thing he knew he was in the basement looking for the book to… the American shot to his feet much to his head's disapproval, the sudden movement caused his vision to swim and for him to sway on his feet, but a quick shake of the head got rid of the feeling. He ran to where he thought the voices were coming from. Did they bring Matthew back? Hope filled his heart like helium in a balloon. It was England it had to have worked he told himself.

"England! Did it work?"

His voice echoing through the house as he almost kicked open the kitchen door. A giant smile on his face and hope in his voice as he entered the room. His heart felt as if it had exploded as tears immediately poured from his baby blues.

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><p>They all gathered around the head stone and freshly dug soil as the coffin was lowered into the ground. The beautiful summer day was filled with the sounds of broken hearts, and sobs as the gentle breeze carried their voices on its back. Flowers of all kinds and colours surrounded the grave site, but they could block out the scent of death that hung in the air like a suffocating blanket. Everyone had turned up to honor the fallen nation. How fucking Ironic, they turn up for his death, but not to celebrate his birth and angry and heartbroken Prussia thought to his self as he looked around him.<p>

Russia was standing directly beside him, with his two sisters. His trade mark smile no longer on his face as he grazed mournfully at his fallen friend. Beside him even the insane Belarus looked somewhat upset as she held onto both her brother's and sister's arm. Ukraine was trying to control her sobbing as she buried her head into her sister's shoulder.

On the other side of him was America, who was quietly crying to his self as he gripped England's hand. England was also quietly crying, a small sob or hiccup escaping his trembling lips every now and then as he gently rubbed Frances back, who was bent over and crying into his hands. Heartbreaking sobs escaping the barrier of his hands.

China had his face covered by one of his giant black sleeves, hiding his face, but from the way his shoulders were shaking the Asian nation. His other hand was being stroked by Korea, who could only sit there helplessly and watch his friend cry.

He heard Italy muffled crying behind him. He knew it was muffled by his brother's shirt, and knew the blonde was holding the Italian close to him. If he was crying he didn't know it, but he heard a few sniffles. He also heard a few sharp inhales and assumed it was Japan. He could hear the nations shuttering breath, as if he was trying to keep from breaking down. He also heard the other Italians cries along with Spain's, who was whispering softly in Spanish.

In front of him, on the other side of the grave, Austria was holding Hungry who was also crying into the Noble's shirt. Prussia knew that even though the Pianist was sobbing or crying like the rest, the man was deeply hurt as well. Beside them, Switzerland and Lichtenstein sat, Switzerland trying to soothe the young woman to no anvil. Cuba, was on the other side, silently crying into his arms which were balanced on his knees. Behind him stood Finland and Sweden, the Swedish man had his arms wrapped around the shorter man tightly shaking along with his lover's shoulders. His lips in a tight line, trembling ever so slightly, but eyes faced straight ahead.

Denmark, Belgium, Iceland, Norway along with Latvia, Estonia and Lithuania, who was holding tightly onto Poland, lumped together at the foot of the Canadian's grave, a different form of sorrow on each face. He watched as the wind blew through their hairs as if fingers where running through them.

As he heard the horrendous sound of dirt hitting wood, he turned his eyes back to the grave. Everyone lined up and began to throw whatever flower they were holding in their hands to the filling grave. He watched as France, England and America go first, throwing in Pacific Dogwood, Alberta and White Trillium, each had a maple leaf tied to them with white and red ribbons. As soon as the flowers left the Frenchman's hands he broke down and collapsed to his knees, as gut wrenching cries and howls escaped his throat. With the help of a shaking American, England lead his old rival to the car waiting for them.

One by one, the nations dropped the three flowers and maple leaf into the almost full grave until the albino is the only one left. He stands there alone in front of the fresh soil, staring at the tombstone, laughing darkly at the writing on it.

" Matthew Williams; Beloved son and Brother. He will be missed. Yeah fucking right. This time tomorrow no one but me and maybe that commie bastard will remember him."

Prussia tilted his head back and stared at the sky, feeling warm wetness descend down his cheeks. Head falling down the tears fall onto the soft dirt in front of him as a sob unleashes it's self from the bottom of his gut. It is full of anguish and lost. Another threatens to rise but he quickly pushes it down as the places his flowers in the middle of the grave. He kneels down by the headstone and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled box, with bits of red wrapping paper hanging off it.

The Prussian opens the box to pull out a necklace with an iron cross matching his own. He stares at it mournfully. I was going to ask him to be with me, but I came too late. He holds the necklace close to his chest as more tears stream down his face. Lovingly he places it on top of the white granite, fingers lingering on the smooth surface.

"Es tut mir leid matthew. Ich liebe dich."

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><p>I was almost crying writing this ending. I was like noooo! I'm so sorry Mattie! But because I couldn't decide if I wanted happy or sad ending I wrote another, and didn't want to tell yall because i'm evil like that. But yea, this was the first ending I wrote. If you don't like the sad ending, read the next chapther. It's happy I promise!<p> 


	8. Did it work?

Just so you know, not I didn't mess up with the beginning, yes I did copy and paste the beginning of last chapter to this. Why? Cause I couldn't decide which ending I liked more. But this one is the happy one i promised. Hope you guys like :D

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><p>It seemed old age had not slowed him down. Russia watched as the English man ran to and fro, collecting things for the spell. It would have been amusing had it not been a race against time. He would move out of the way as the man came running past him, panting, skin slightly glistening in the candle light with a thin coat of sweat. On his face a look of determination that almost matched America's when he would get one of his crazy ideas.<p>

"So that's where he got it from."

"Sorry what's that?"

Ivan looked over to where his Ally was. He was bent over a chest, head never rising to look at the Russian man standing by his former colony.

"Nothing. I was merely talking to myself, da."

England only grunted, still rummaging through the chest, until he made discovered whatever it is he was looking for. Making some noise of triumph holding up a bottle of some weird glowing liquid, looking over at the Russian with a satisfied look on his face. However his face fell when his eyes fell on the American. Alfred was still out cold, and they had to figure something out now.

"We've only 8 minutes or less… Ivan is there any way you can take him? We have to resurrect Matthew before the sunsets completely over there. "

"нет. Like you I cannot unless he is awake."

The looked glumly at the man lying on the floor as a shiver ran down both of their spines. If he was covered in blood…. England shook his head fiercely, attempting to get the thought out of his head. Russia only shut his eyes briefly. He walked over to the other nation and lifted him up bridal style.

"Where are you going?"

"It would be rude to leave him here on the cold floor, da? I will move him upstairs where he will be more comfy."

"Alright, but hurry please! We're down to 7 minutes!"

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><p>The summer sunset engulfed the house in hues of pinks and reds making the white walls look as if they were drenched with blood. It seemed as if whatever Gods were up there were either against them, or were just very entertained with the Frenchman and Prussian's suffering. Patience was also beginning to run thin within the albino. The red hues also made the whites of his eyes a shade lighter than his iris along with his hair. Everything about the man was red from the light as well as the anger bubbling up inside him again. Prussian held his knees close to his chest. He felt weak, and dammit he hated feeling weak! It was too un-awesome for him! It wouldn't have been so bad if there was something he could do, but to sit here on the floor with France, who was staring off into space after his tears had all dried up, and with the body of his friend only a couple of feet from him, it just wasn't right! He bit back a growl that threating to escape his clenched teeth and buried his head into his arms, hoping to forget the world around him. As he shifted he heard the small package he had been keeping in his pocket fall onto the floor, the wrapping paper cushioning its fall. He lifted his head and stared at the tin, horribly wrapped and ironically red wrapping paper. It caught the fading light just right and it seemed to glare into his equally red eyes, directly into his soul. Why in the hell had he picked red wrapping paper? Oh yea, cause of Matthew, it was one of the colours on his flag. His rage could no longer be contained inside him. He snatched up the mocking gift and threw it as hard as he could at the wall in front of him.<p>

"Fuck you! You piece of shit!"

France jumped at the sound of the ex-nation's sudden scream. He watched as his friend threw something red at the wall as if both had insulted him. He could only sit there and watch as Prussia ran over to said wall and begin to punch it with all his strength, which was a lot. He watched as his fist went through the wall over and over again, screaming in German and watch as the tears slide down his face. It was almost as if watching a horror movie. As Prussia took his rage out on the offending wall, it looked as if he was crying blood.

Suddenly the light around them turned into an icy blue, and a chilling wind blew through the foyer, making the light swirl and take on the appearance of snow. The Prussian ceased his beating of the poor wall, which looked as if it was about to crumble at any time now, and shielded his eyes from the bright light. The Frenchman did the same, burying his head into his knees, arms wrapped around his self in attempt to keep the chilly wind away.

"Fuck! There isn't much time! Hurry Ivan! Help me with Matthew!"

Both France and Prussia looked up at the familiar sound of England's voice. He was already kneeling over the Canadian's body, lifting his arms as the Russian grabbed his feet. Confusion equally played across the old friend's faces as they watched Russia simply pick up Canada running past them, his normal smile no longer on his child-like face. They followed him, as he into the kitchen, out the French doors into Matthews brick patio where England was already there drawing something onto it with chalk. Around him were odd black bottles with labels written in a language neither of them knew.

"Place him in the center, quickly! We're running out of time! The sun is almost gone!"

"What happens when the sunsets?"

Both Prussia and France asked at the same time, both taking on the panicky tone their English friend had just voiced. He didn't look up nor answer as he began to grab the jars, and place the objects inside around Matthew's body.

"If the sunsets before England can finish the spell, we lose Matthew forever."

The Russian replied bluntly and gloomily. He turned his back away from the other two as they unconsciously began to shout sometime of cusses in their native tongue. Time was defiantly against them, he thought to his self as he watched as the first stars began to twinkle in the purple blotches of the sky. The tree line in front of him seem to bleed as he watch the red light fade away. He closed his eyes as he heard Arthur speaking in Gaelic as the red light turned into a ghastly green.

The first thing America noticed as he came out of the darkness was the pounding in his head and how it screamed at him as he sat up. Letting out a soft groan of pain he began to take in his surroundings. He was in England's living room, that much he knew, but how did he get here, and who the hell was whispering? Last thing he knew he was in the basement looking for the book to… the American shot to his feet much to his head's disapproval, the sudden movement caused his vision to swim and for him to sway on his feet, but a quick shake of the head got rid of the feeling. He ran to where he thought the voices were coming from. Did they bring Matthew back? Hope filled his heart like helium in a balloon. It was England it had to have worked he told himself.

"England! Did it work?"

His voice echoing through the house as he almost kicked open the kitchen door. A giant smile on his face and hope in his voice as he entered the room. His heart felt as if it had exploded as tears immediately poured from his baby blues.

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><p>As the light faded away, the nation's held their breaths, staring at the body that was once Canada. The summer sun had said goodnight as the moon said good morning, a new light bathing them in her silvery blue glow. Four pairs of eyes searching for any signs of life as the full moon made her climb into the heavens. As the clock ticked it seemed as if the higher ups were not on their side today. They had failed, they were too late.<p>

Someone took a quick inhale and began to cough. All eyes shot back to the Canadian, who was shaking and shivering, looking around confused. All the sudden four bodies attached their selves to his person, four voices exclaiming in his ear in four differently languages. The just resurrected Canadian let out a shout of surprise and shock and began to push them away. They backed off confused as to what was happening.

" Pourquoi suis-je vivant?"

"L'Angleterre vous a ramené ma douce Matthieu. N'est-ce pas merveilleux?"

Canada just gaped at his both his former guardians in disbelief. If they brought him back does that mean they really loved him, or only felt guilty? As much as he wanted to believe to first thought the maple syrup lover had a feeling it was the guilt. He was about to voice the opinion when slender bout strong arms snaked their way around his waist. He felt himself being lifted and a warm chest on his back as the world around him spun. Once his feet were planted firmly on the ground, and everything stopped spinning the first thing he saw was red. Red eyes to be exact and tears of happiness flowing freely from them. Violet eyes widen in surprise, never in a million years did he ever think he'd see the Prussian cry, and never so freely! He let the arms envelope him in a warm and loving embrace. All doubts leaving his mind as he saw the faces around him filled with joy.

So when his brother tackled him to the floor he was prepared for it, arms opened wide just in time to catch the moving landmass. Kisses and tears peppered his face. Shock ran through him, but it just made his smile grow wider. Never in his life had he felt so loved. In his ear he heard his brother's voice waver as he alternated between apologizing and saying how much he loved him. Tears stung his eyes as he whispered back how he was sorry and how much he loved America as well, but for his brother to get off him because he couldn't breathe. The younger one chuckled as he rolled off his brother. The other nations in the kitchen began to laugh as well, soon they all busted into hysterics holding their sides, all on the floor as their laughter rang through the house. Even Russia was laughing quietly, and not in a creepy way!

They all lay where they were, catching their breathes. A few chuckles bubbled out; threatening to begin the laughing marathon again. America held Canada's as he gave his brother his famous goofy smile, showing all his teeth. He leaned over and kissed his brother on the nose, resting their foreheads together.

"Welcome home Mattie. Happy Birthday."

Canada giggled to his self as he inspected the damages of h

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><p>is house. America was snuggling up to Russia on the sofa, both asleep. England and France passed out on the floor, England clutching a bottle of rum he had found. Beer cans and wine bottles where everywhere along with a couple of vodka bottles. The kitchen was a mess and part of the wall was burnt from where England had tried to cook him something, then went off to sulk as he and France literally shoved him out of the kitchen. Dishes filled his sink, but he could get the tomorrow.<p>

He caught a glimpse of silver hair through the French doors. The warm summer night air greeted him as the opened the doors and quietly shut them behind him. The former nation didn't turn to look at him. His eyes on the chalk scribbles on the patio.

"I was scared when I found you."

"I know I'm so-"

"Don't apologize Birdie. It's us that should be."

He turned to face the Canadian, giving him a sweet smile. It made him look young and almost innocent. A light blush dusted across the younger nation's cheeks as he dropped the Prussian gaze. He didn't hear him get closer, but he felt his chin being cupped and gently lifting his head to look into crimson eyes. In his other hand he held up a small box with wrapping paper that matched the albino's eyes. Timidly he took the gift, and after seeing the nod from the other, he slowly unwrapped it. When he opened the box, a small gasp escaped his lips. In the moon light and iron cross necklace gleamed.

"I don't know if you feel the same but…"

Canada looked up at Prussia. He was scratching the back of his head, all the sudden interested in something to the side, and his face was as red as the maple leaf he took such great pride in. Once again he felt tears of joy as he entwined his fingers around Prussia's neck. Crimson eyes widen in shock, and his mouth hung open a little. It was quickly replaced with a smile as soft lips gently pressed against his. It was a simple loving kiss, and it made the ex -nation's heart want to beat out of his chest. He pulled back resting his forehead on his new lovers, eyes still closed, noses rubbing against each other slowly.

"Bien sûr. Je t'aime"

"Ich liebe dich auch"

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><p>All your faults is offically over! I hope you guys liked this story! It was my 1st non-oneshot :D I will now be working on Berlin wall, like I've been promising. But I'll start on that tomorrow. Thank you guys for reading this! Leave a review on which ending you liked more ^_^ Thanks! ~3<p> 


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